If Angels Could Cry
by The Danvers Girls
Summary: When the entire world collapses at your feet, Everything is gone. What happens now? Who, then, do you turn do? A Prideshipping story, Seto/Yami By Sammi
1. Prologue 1: White Roses And Reminiscing

_First of all, I'd just like to say a big thank you to Wolf Flash. Without you, Nakama, this story would cease to exist. Arigatou for the fantastic idea that inspired what I feel to be my best work yet. Another huge thanks to Minasantaria, for sticking by my crazy ideas and offering support, and also to Winter-Rae, for accepting the official position of Beta-reader (God knows I need one) and also offering support. And I'm definitely not forgetting to thank Saffire Blade, for her supportive attitude and constant chattering. In short... thank you, all of you._

_Anyone who's reading this, thank you. I've poured a great deal of my soul into this story, and I hope it satisfies your tastes._

_**Warning:** This is not a happy story. Please read at your own risks, as it contains violence, along with abuse, death and attempted suicide in later chapters. The rating may rise to Mature if I feel it should._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the characters from Yu-Gi-Oh! This story was made purely for entertainment and not financial purposes._

* * *

Yugi lay serenely upon a bed of white roses, cheeks pale and his expression peaceful.

The young King of Games looked both content and beautiful as his remaining family gazed down at the youth, tears in their eyes. Sugoroku Mutou gently clasped his grandson's deathly cold hand, a stifled sob escaping his lips. For an old man close to death's door himself, he certainly had not expected things to happen like this. No, he had not expected to see the one person he considered the brightest star in the sky, the loveable little boy he had cared after for many years, to meet a sudden, grim end before his rightful time.

Standing a fair bit off to the side, a teen that looked startlingly similar to Yugi laughed: a bitter sound full of regret and self-loathing. Eyes flickered reproachfully to the teen, yet no one had the heart to reprimand him. Though the his cheeks were dry and his mouth twisted into a disgusted frown, it was clear from the look in those crimson orbs that he was deeply affected by this loss. Sugoroku placed Yugi's pale hand carefully back beside his body, before bowing his head in respect and slowly moving away. Yugi's mother took his place, weeping quietly over her son.

Careful not to disturb the painful hush hanging over the parlour, Sugoroku made his way to Yugi's lookalike, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. The teen flinched and quickly pulled away from the warm touch, secretly preferring the cold air around him. It matched his strangely disoriented mood. The older man blinked, concerned, and reached out again – this time to capture the teen a soft embrace.

Yugi's lookalike froze, and after a few seconds of contemplation, began struggling to escape Sugoroku's hold. The older man resisted out of worry for what he considered the last link to his fallen grandson. Pulling back slightly, he attempted to look into the teen's eyes. "Atemu-"

"No," came a distraught whisper as the teen turned his head away, deeply ashamed for a reason that Sugoroku could not understand. "No. Yami... my name is Yami."

"Yami... no one blames you."

Yami's struggles came to a sudden, unexpected stop, and all Sugoroku could do was watch at the teen closed his eyes, fighting an internal battle within himself. "No one blames me..." he mumbled, eyelids twitching.

'...But I blame myself.'

Sugoroku sighed deeply and pulled Yami back into his arms, offering as much comfort as he could. Though the teen hadn't said a word, the older man knew that guilt was plaguing him with fervour. But as much as he wished to offer him guidance and whisper words of understanding and care, Sugoroku could not.

Though it had taken him a long time to become aware of it, there was a certain link that existed between Yugi and his other half, Yami. A powerful link which traded their emotions back and forth along with their combined thoughts. A simple mental touch could unravel into a torrent of despair or a flurry of happiness, causing the identical teens to break into sombre grimaces or dazzling smiles within seconds. The older man knew he couldn't begin to comprehend the loss the teen in his arms was feeling.

For Yami, however, the emotional turmoil ran far deeper than anyone could have suspected. The large part of his mind where Yugi's thoughts and feelings had resided felt painfully empty and bare – devoid of the spark of life Yami was so blatantly used to. The bright, joyful spark he had always taken for granted and now missed with every inch of his being.

The thing that irked the teen the most, right down to his core, was how everything was dramatically _wrong_ with Yugi's funeral.

He did not care how many people told him otherwise: but for Yami, it was a disgrace to Yugi's lasting memory. The most ironic thing was that his aibou was draped in a dainty white robe, swathing his form shapelessly, when Yugi had always preferred the comfort of his suggestive black leather. The colours contrasted so badly within his inner eye that he winced, finally tearing away from Sugoroku and turning instead to gaze at the smooth wooden coffin.

Yami hadn't liked the hymns, either – they spoke of praising a god and worshipping a saviour from heaven. Yugi would have inwardly scoffed, while plastering a sweet, content smile on his face. His aibou always put everyone else's feelings and needs first before his own, a feat Yami had chided him for time and time again.

'Oh Ra, Yugi... aibou... why? Why did this have to happen?'

Sugoroku watched on, feeling utterly helpless at the teen wrapped his arms tightly around his quivering form, eyes flickering closed in an attempt to hold back the dam. Yami could not, and would not, cry. As sinful as he felt, standing in the breezy parlour as the only person with a dry face, the former Pharaoh could not bring himself to do the deed. He was dishonouring Yugi's memory outright with his insolence, that much he knew from the hateful glances Yugi's mother and Anzu frequently threw his way, and yet...

His pride remained stubborn to the point of allowing shame to lash away into his heart. Instead, he had laughed – _laughed_ – as he remembered the priest droning on about a shy, timid Yugi Mutou that Yami had never even met. The teen's little hikari was actually rather jovial and jolly, bouncing around on his toes while attempting to put a smile on people's faces and some cheer into their spirit. Needless to say, Yugi's happiness was so infectious it reminded Yami of a constant Christmas celebration.

Hatred seared into Yami even more as he mentally cursed the foolish coach driver who had drove Yugi to his doom. Part of him longed for the dark energy of his Shadow Magic, so he could have perhaps sensed what was about to happen... prevented the disaster that tore a hole through the entire Mutou family and Yugi's party of friends. But no matter how many times Yami constantly belittled himself for his foolish mistake and that terrible accident, he could not change what was already set in stone.

With another quiet sob, Yugi's mother moved away from her son's coffin, and Sugoroku took this as his que to guide the distraught teen before him over to Yugi so he could pay his respect. Yami did not resist as the older man gently gripped his shoulder before steering him towards the dreaded object. Upon arrival, Sugoroku slowly let his hand slide from the teen, and he stepped back, head lowered to offer him some privacy.

Yami stared down at his aibou's peaceful face, unsure of when he had re-opened his eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to care. An eerie calm spread throughout his body, and the teen felt his shoulders visibly relax along with his constant quivering. Just gazing upon Yugi's face – Yugi's content, smiling face – blocked out the rest of the world, and Yami felt as though he was floating on an endless sea of clouds; holding him in a warm, comforting embrace, if only for a few precious moments.

And then the comfort was gone... Yami stood back in the parlour, once again trembling violently as he stared at Yugi's pale face, willing those amethyst orbs to open. But they did not, and the tri-haired teen knew they never would. His trembling increased greatly in tempo, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

Slowly, almost unwillingly, he reached a hand down to the pocket of his jacket, pulling out the well-worn edge of a familiar card. Pain struck Yami's heart as he stared down at the much-loved Duel Monster, purple robes surrounding a serious, determined face. The Dark Magician had always struck by him in even the most dramatic and risky of duels... the former Pharaoh was absolutely certain he would stay by Yugi's side, even now. Tears still threatening to overpower him, Yami shakily clasped Yugi's icy hand, and slipped the card inside its grasp.

Sugoroku slyly watched from the corner of his eye, touched at the gesture. Dark Magician was Yami's absolute favourite: even more so than the Egyptian God cards. To let it rest beside Yugi inside a soon-to-be grave...

Rivets of water ran down the old man's face, intertwining with the wrinkles that symbolised all the suffering he'd seen.

Yami clenched his eyes shut once more, tightening his grip on Yugi's hand. Dark Magician was slightly crushed from the force of his grip, but the teen neither knew nor cared. Yugi, his aibou, was gone... gone forever, into the realm of the afterlife. Gone, and leaving behind a grieving world full of people lost and broken, just like himself.

'Ai...bou...'

The teen could take the building pressure on his heart no more. Fighting furiously with his pride, tears of sorrow and regret turned to tears of loss and anger. With as much grace as he could muster, Yami hastily placed Yugi's hand by his side before making a dash for the door. Sugoroku jumped in fright and, after a moment's hesitation, ran after the emotionally ailing teen. It took him only a minute to catch up with the tri-haired boy.

Yami's eyes were blurred by a multitude of tears begging for release, and for this reason he could not see where he was going. The wall collided with his side on several occasions, until a strong, gentle pair of arms pulled him backwards, causing him to yelp in distress. "Get off!" He hissed darkly, attempting to wrench himself free.

"Atemu-"

"_My name is Yami!_"

The sheer bitterness and anger in Yami's voice startled Sugoroku greatly. His arms slackened and without a moment's hesitation, Yami was gone, racing down the hall towards the ebony doors between him and the freedom he craved.

A large bang signalled to the teen that he had reached his destination – he had left the parlour. But still he did not stop. The teen was filled with an insatiable urge to run, run from the horrors behind him. Sugoroku's echoing voice, laced with worry and concern, could not penetrate through his shattering defences. All Yami could feel was the guilt and mind-blowing agony wearing away inside of his heart, his soul, his everything.

Onwards he raced, further and further away from Yugi's empty shell, from the crowds of despairing mothers, daughters, sons and fathers – from Yugi's family and friends, nameless strangers he had yet to properly meet, and anyone else he could have hoped would understand. With each passing second, Yami continued distancing himself from the painful reminder that he, once again, had failed the world. And, more importantly, the constant message imprinted into his memory... that this time, he had failed his aibou.

Yami fled.

* * *

Thank you for reading this chapter - it took me a while to sort out the emotions. I wanted to have Yami give Yugi something precious to signify how much he misses him...

_**Next Time:** Seto and Yami's confrontation... I wonder what will happen? Yami collasped?! Oh no! What, Seto's going to...? Oh dear!_

_Stay tuned, and please review..._


	2. Prologue 2: We Meet Again, Pharaoh

_I was a little confused on how to write Seto's character, and after several tries, I decided this would do for the moment... he's confused, and despairing, but like Yami, a proud man. Seto isn't going to cry very easily._

_Thanks to these wonderful people for their reviews last chapter:-  
_

_**XXRoseGoddessXx**_: _Thanks for the review, and here is the confrontation you've been waiting for... I hope you like it._

_**Winter-Rae**_:_ No, Nakama, _I'm_ honoured to have someone like yourself accept to beta this story for me. I would have deleted the last chapter if you hadn't checked it over for me – I was sure it wasn't good enough. Thank you for reviewing, and yes, I loved the Dark Magician scene as well. Once again, thank you for being my beta._

_**Wolf Flash**_: _I love you too Nakama, and thanks for reviewing. I can't wait to read more on your amazing '_Dark World Light World' _story; stop doubting yourself because you're a wonderful writer._

_**Minasantaria:**_ _I'm sorry I made you cry , Mina. But I'm also touched that you enjoyed the chapter so much. Thanks for the review, and here's the update – I hope you like it._

_**Blue September**_: _Thank you for your generous review. I decided to let people peak in the little into Sugoroku's mind, and see how he was coping with the loss of his grandson. To be honest, it was kind of needed as he will appear later on in the story. Once again thank you for the compliments._

_**Saffire Blade**_: _Hm, yes... I was aiming for dramatic, angsty, and borderline tragedy. Thank you Clingon – this is my favourite story at the moment (in all the ones I'm currently writing). I'm pleased you liked the Dark Magician scene – I was worried it didn't really show the bond between Yugi and Yami. Thank you for reviewing._

_**Salkiethia**_: _Yes, hopefully most of the chapters will be filled with the same style, except the emotions may vary to compliment the scenes. Hm, as for Yugi... he went on a coach tour of Tokyo for fun, but he had another reason as well... which will be delved into later. Unfortunately, the driver crashed the coach, and only one person survived... find out this chapter. As for Yugi and Yami – Yugi was 17, and Yami is 18, almost 19. Thanks for the review._

_**Phoenix To Flame**_: _Thank you for reviewing. Hm... Yugi was killed in a when he went on a coach tour of Tokyo, and the coach crashed. Only one person survived the crash. – and you're about to find out who._

_**AirGirl Phantom**_: _I tried as hard as I could to let everyone see Yami's internal struggle – since he was once a Pharaoh, it would be very difficult for the poor guy to let go of his pride quite simply to cry. Thank you for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed it even though you aren't into yaoi stories._

_**xnightmare'sxnightmarex**_: _Thank you for your review... and there's much more angst to come. _

_Thank you for being patient and bearing with me... here's chapter 2._

* * *

Seto sighed softly as the world flew past his tinted windows, which effectively hid both him and his grief from the unsuspecting citizens of Domino City. The wheel of life, for them, would smoothly continue on as normal, while the CEO's own had grinded to an unexpected and yet horrifying halt.

The day the coach had crashed on its anticipated tour around Tokyo was the day Seto's emotionless mask almost cracked from a sudden onslaught of fear and terror. He had rushed straight to Domino's finest hospital, barking orders and insults at any doctors foolish enough to stand in his way, then into the intensive care ward, eyes searching frantically for its newest occupant. Almost immediately Seto's face had paled as his eyes had locked onto the last bed in the corner. The floor spun at his feet, stars hurling themselves into his vision; it took several nurses to convince the CEO to take a minute to sit down and clear his befuddled head.

For hours after an unbelievable yet shocking conversation, Seto had sat at Mokuba's bedside, secretly clutching his younger brother's hand beneath the crisp white sheets. No one – not even the head doctor – could persuade him to get up and leave. The CEO blatantly refused every single time. It was incredibly startling, when the week flew by, leaving Seto sinking deeper and deeper into a lingering confusion and despair:

'Why Mokuba? Why... why him?'

The doctors had claimed that the raven-haired boy would cease to awaken. Just thinking of the words caused a shudder to rip through Seto's entire form – Mokuba would sleep for eternity in the black void of unawareness, blissfully unknowing of the way the world still span on without his cheery laughter, or his high-pitched squeaks of concern. Already he longed for the shrill cry of "Seto!" every night he walked in through the door to his – _their_ – mansion. A now very lonely place without the pitter-patter of tiny feet running over the carpet or the gleeful shouts when Mokuba raced into the kitchen.

Would he ever hear that sweet, taken for granted sound again?

His concentration was broken when Isono cursed loudly and slammed on the breaks, causing the limo to skid uncontrollably for several seconds before coming to a sudden stop. Seto was thrown forward and almost fell to the floor – he managed to catch himself before his head could meet the hard surface.

"Isono!" The CEO spat, straightening his jacket. He was in no mood for slip-ups today, especially from one of his most trusted men. "What the hell are you doing? When I put you in charge of my team of elites, I wasn't expecting a mistake..." His voice trailed off dangerously, the threat hanging crystal clear in the tangible air.

"Kaiba, sir..." came the spluttered reply as Isono held a quaking hand over his heart. "I'm terribly sorry, sir, but... I hadn't really expected..."

"Spit it out before I grow tired of your blabbering," sighed Seto, crossing his arms with a quick snap.

"O-of course..." Isono chuckled weakly as his shocked trembles stilled, and he glanced up into the rear-view mirror to his employer. "Kaiba, sir, I could have sworn I just saw Yugi Mutou..." The driver gulped when the CEO's eyes flashed angrily, impatience making itself known. "H-he's supposed to have died last week..."

Seto froze as he heard the words. _He's supposed to have died last week..._ So why, then, was his employer hallucinating and seeing dead people on the street? To confirm if he was indeed touched in the head, The CEO carelessly glanced out through the darkened window, and stiffened as a multi-coloured flash caught his eye. In an instant Seto had thrown open the limo door and bolted in the same direction, ignoring Isono's startled yelp – if it was indeed Yugi, and he was supposed to be dead, then why on earth was he walking (more like _running_) around?

Though of course, Seto realised with distaste, it could also be Atemu... the supposed 'Pharaoh'. The CEO couldn't believe that after two entire years – two years of breaking away from the geek squad's crazy and almost inescapable grip – they still believed Yugi's mysterious older brother was from Ancient Egypt. It was such an absurd notion, after all; there was no way in hell that Atemu could have survived three thousand years, yet still look as young as a normal, albeit strangely-haired, teen.

Seto sharply turned a corner and once again, was thrown forward; this time by a large obstruction at his feet. Growling as he picked himself up from the hard cement, Seto whirled around, ready to release his pent-up frustration on the idiotic object that dared to force him to the ground, and gaped as he found a body instead. The same tri-haired teen that he'd been frantically chasing lay as a tangle of limbs, eyes clenched tight.

The first thing Seto noticed about Atemu was his startlingly pale skin. When had he been so _white_ and _pasty_? What startled him most, however, was the fact that from what he could see, the teen had collapsed – right in the middle of the street. Seto was fairly positive that wasn't healthy.

Crouching down gingerly, Seto stretched out a warm hand and shook Atemu's shoulder roughly. "Wake up, you idiot." He sneered, unimpressed. "Unless you enjoy being part of the sidewalk." Certain that his insult had made it's way to the _Pharaoh_'s ears, Seto shook him yet again, before pulling back and getting to his feet.

When Atemu did not react, Seto shoved away the strange feeling trying to clench his heart. Frowning, he nudged the teen with his foot, thankful that the street was empty. "Get up." This time Yugi's lookalike responded slightly; his eyelids flickered gently, yet Atemu's body remained still. The lack of motion was quite disturbing... it reminded Seto of-

'of a _dead_ person.'

Mokuba and Yugi flashed to the front of his mind – the former lying still, tucked gently into a white bed, and the latter lying completely motionless, surrounded by the sides of a smooth, oak coffin. Seto held back a shudder as he once again crouched by Atemu, his frown slipping into a grimace of worry. How _foolish_ of him – the CEO could not hold back a flinch – to think the teen would be unaffected by his 'brother's' death. He could almost understand how he must be feeling.

Almost.

There was one key factor that seperated both him and Atemu right now: Yugi was dead, while Mokuba still lived, except in a deep, unbreakable sleep. For that, Seto was eternally grateful – but he at the same time, the CEO felt a sudden urge to take away the younger teen's suffering. If Seto ever lost his younger brother to death, he'd be broken, unable to continue on his own. God knows how Atemu was coping at the moment.

With a frustrated and reluctant sigh, Seto gently slipped his arms beneath Atemu and hoisted him up, almost toppling over yet _again_ because of the unexpected lightness. When was the last time the teen had bothered to eat? The CEO couldn't be sure without a verbal response from Atemu, and even then the chances of it being a truthful answer was incredibly slim. With a dramatic whirl of his jacket, Seto spun around and carried the tri-haired teen back towards his waiting limo, the door still left open in his haste.

"Mr Kaiba, sir?" Asked Isono hesitantly, wary of his employer's reaction. After all, one could never be too sure with the cold-hearted man – yet the driver felt that perhaps Mr Kaiba wasn't completely emotionless. He seemed to have taken his brother's death quite badly.

Seto offered no explanation as he slid Atemu onto the soft leather seats, before climbing in himself and closing the door with a snap. "Take us back to the mansion, Isono." He demanded, crossing his arms once again. As soon as they arrived, Seto was going to make sure the younger teen to eat something, by force if necessarily. It pained the CEO to think about it, but he was sure Atemu would do the same in a reverse situation. Which, of course, would never happen.

Isono nodded his head, biting his lip in an attempt to stop the question desperate to escape: what about Mr Mutou? It was safer to keep your well-paid job than know a shred of information, no matter how curious it made you. With a flick of his wrist the engine hummed quietly into life before the limo sped off down the street.

The soft purr from the vehicle almost lulled Seto to sleep, had it not been for his pride and the still figure being jostled slightly on his right. The CEO's heart clenched in pain once again as he thought of Mokuba – sweet, innocent Mokuba – and naive, jovial Yugi, both dead in their own way. Yet Yugi's way was much more frightening and realistic. At least his raven-haired brother's heart still beat inside his small, suddenly fragile chest.

Which is exactly how Seto had felt when he'd entered that ward last week – fragile and broken. It simply wasn't _right_, in a way – he was so used to being strong; a pillar of support for his younger brother to cling to. Cold like marble, but solid too, and unbreakable. Yet somehow the marble had splintered painfully across the ground, weakened greatly, and struggling to keep itself upright underneath such a heavy roof of burdens.

When Yami felt his consciousness return to him, he didn't expect to feel the ground moving smoothly beneath his back. That most of all was utterly confusing; had he not been lying against a wall earlier, when hunger had finally struck and taken it's toll after a week of neglect to his body?

Before the tri-haired teen could have a chance to think about where he was, grief struck his heart with so much force his body almost convulsed. His heartbeat sped up frantically when he sunk back into the bowels of despair. 'Yugi... my hikari...

'...aibou...'

That one word raced across Yami's mind so fast it felt as though his nerves were short-circuiting. Never before has the former Pharaoh known what an electric shock felt like, but part of him was pretty positive the feelings coursing through him now were pretty similar to the real thing. Yugi was gone; without Yugi there would be no more boisterous laughs, no more cheerful little smiles, and certainly no more of those amethyst orbs. Bright, dazzling amethyst, which could drag you down into their shining depths - a whirlwind of happy, colourful emotions.

A sharp bump below shook his body harshly, snapping his mind away from the pain momentarily. Slightly dazed, he heard an irritated voice snap angrily at another person, and a stuttered, nervous reply. Where on earth was he? Determined to find out, Yami peeled open his tired eyes and stared. Seto looked back just as intently, azure eyes ablaze with anger and... was that grief lingering quietly at the back? Yami resisted the urge to frown, slightly interested as to why he was lying in what seemed to be Seto Kaiba's very expensive limo. Yet before he could open his mouth to ask, the CEO bet him too it.

"I've no idea what you're playing at, Mutou, but collapsing on the sidewalk wasn't your smartest idea." Despite the fact Seto had answered with his usual cold tone, the younger teen could hear traces of worry coating the ice. This time, Yami could not keep back his confusion.

"And why am I here instead?" He asked quietly, never breaking eye contact. Yami dimly wondered what could cause Seto to be so unhappy, but he shook the thought away – his sympathy and concern would not be appreciated by the older teen. Rather they would be shunned away with disgust.

The CEO turned his head away, deep in thought. To admit the honest truth – when he was deep in denial himself – would be an absolute nightmare for Seto. Firstly, Yami might not believe him... or worse, mock his sudden change in attitude. But what other options did the brunette have? Though lying wasn't something that troubled him, he knew Mokuba would be put to shame if he did cover up his reasons.

It was a bad way to honour his brother.

"Because contrary to popular belief, _Yami_," Seto clipped, still struggling hard to keep the concern out of his voice. "I am not completely heartless." The younger teen said not a word in reply, choosing instead to gaze out through the tinted window, which was slightly difficult when lying down. Thought he did not voice it, part of Yami wished that Seto had left him on the street to die.

Maybe then he'd be reunited with his aibou.

* * *

_Yes, Yami is still heartbroken over his loss... as is Seto. With two grieving males in the same proximity, what chaos could happen? What emotions could be stirred?_

_**Next time:**__ Seto discovers the reason for Yami's collapse. Are they fighting _again_? Do they ever stop? ...And what's this about intruders into the Kaiba Mansion?_

_Stay tuned, and please review..._


	3. Chapter 1: Getting To Know You

_Okay, chapter 3 at last. I do apologize for the delay it took to post this chapter: exams and a mysterious illness have kept me both neck-deep in schoolwork and shivering in bed. Thankfully, the latter of the two has passed for the moment, and I've returned properly to let those interest read another snippet of the trail Seto and Yami had started upon together._

_I would also like to state that this chapter is longer than the first two, another factor in its delay, and they will most likely continue to get longer as the story progresses. Chapters One and Two were both introductory examples of Yami and Seto's character, both for me and for all of you. I'm pleased that they were both received with positive comments, and here is my (very late) thanks to you. My aim is to please, and I hope this satisfies well._

_Another note: I know I promised something about intruders at the end of chapter two, but it shall have to wait for the moment until Chapter Four. I see this chapter as being crucial in beginning the bond Seto and Yami will share._

_Special thanks to these people (not for their reviews, but for their inspiration and support), they will recognise their names when they read this:-_

_**Aibou:**__ Arigatou aibou for your eager interest in If Angels Could Cry. It means a lot to me that you put up with my silly ramblings and waffling fan fiction. *chu* Arigatou for beta-ing the excerpt._

_**Hathor-sama:**__ And arigatou Hathor-sama, for your kind words and determined attitude. I still believe my own work pales in comparison to yours, but to have someone of your standard praising _me_ is something I never dreamed of._

_**Imouto:**__ Arigatou very much for fixing the frown on my face, Wolfie. And another huge thank you for reading the excerpt for me._

_**Eiyoko-chan:**__ Arigatou for beta-ing an excerpt of this chapter for me. I don't think I would have continued writing without the positive feedback._

_And thank you to all my reviewers and readers. I'm delighted that you have enjoyed If Angels Could Cry so far._

_Without further ado, the chapter starts here._

* * *

"Isono," Seto snapped, his gaze ice cold as it froze the employee to his core. "Head to the kitchen immediately and prepare this evening's meal."

The nervous man quickly bowed his head before the CEO, heading quickly to the large, almost threatening doors of the Kaiba mansion. Though it wasn't his job to take part in the culinary aspects of the brunette's life, he was paid to be ordered around; so the kitchen is where he would be working tonight, instead of the driver's seat.

Yami watched as the doors swung shut behind Isono, silent and imposing to the young teen. Though the offer had seemed sincere, he was still unsure of Seto's intentions for the moment. There was no logical explanation for a man of the CEO's standard to invite a grieving, almost suicidal companion - if you could call them that close - into his home for a meal: it seemed almost surreal, a fantasy in motion. Yami shook his head slightly, a tad disturbed at that thought. Seto was in no way related to any kind of fantasy; he was a symbolic mirror of the truthful harshness one can stumble across in life. The same harboured weight kept the brunette's feet planted firmly on rocky ground. That thought almost made Yami pity the older, whom was standing, waiting, wearing an absurdly annoyed look on his cold features.

"Are you finished gaping at the exterior?" The CEO snapped in a slightly smug tone, aware that even if Yami wasn't to say a word, he was deeply shocked by the rich decoration - and he had yet to step into the threshold. A smirk began to tug at his lips, Seto's former mask attempting to slide back into place despite his earlier oath. Yet a familiar and distant voice inwardly chided him for breaking the new resolution so fast, and his determination began a mad wrestle for dominance. He had sworn Yami would eat; and thus Yami would eat, before any kind of competitive sneering contests began "Once you're done, step this way."

Slightly aware of the inner exchange Seto had just experienced, Yami inclined his head slightly, legs complying with his mind and following the taller through the previously closed doors. Inside, a large cavernous pathway greeted him, soaked in red carpets which reminded Yami far too much of blood - blood Yugi may have spilt the day that the coach had been destined to meet its end, along with the finale of many innocent riders-

A shudder tore through his body as he slammed shut an iron door on the imposing thoughts. 'I will not,' he argued within himself. 'Definitely not. I can despair again later, alone.' The pain still weighed heavily upon Yami's soul, almost strong enough to have his body pressed down on the ruby flooring, but like Seto's earlier battle - one the younger teen was sure he wasn't supposed to be aware of - he could simply ignore the temptation to give up, give in, and instead keep his feet following the pair before him. The result led him into a vast kitchen, polished with silver pots and various other utensils Yami had never laid eyes on before in his life. Seto swept across the kitchen quickly, ignoring the temporary chef for tonight's meal - one unaccustomed to working with even half the amount of equipment hanging around him - and to another door, this one simple and almost discreet, as is trying to shy away from being noticed. A stubborn hand pushed it open with careless disregard as the CEO disappeared inside a dark space, lights proceeding to flicker on after his entry. Yami followed slowly, eyes roaming the spotless area that Isono struggled to cope with, before he slid into the smaller room.

Seto was standing by a wall that seemed as if it were completely made of glass, designed so one could stare out into the luxurious gardens stretching before them. Almost immediately Yami understood why the brunette stood there, watching the sky beginning to darken slightly; he was in turmoil. The way Seto stood, one palm pressed against the glass hard and in an almost despairing way, was as insight into the meaning behind the grief he'd seen earlier in his eyes, something he didn't want to share with anyone; something that he would possibly hide from Mokuba, too.

It was suddenly so blatantly obvious that confusion struck Yami full force. Where was raven-haired teen, when Seto so desperately needed him right now to balance out the conflicting karma?

"Take a seat," The brunette interrupted with a clear, crisp tone, slicing like a sharp knife through Yami's concerned wonderings. He himself was already sitting at the head of the table, the high-backed chair giving the younger teen an impression of someone placed high in Royalty. The former Pharaoh quickly chose the nearest seat with little interest, pondering why he had never noticed Seto moving away from the window - unless he'd been too deeply in thought yet again, except this time for someone else's loss rather than his own. Despite having no knowledge of Mokuba's whereabouts, Yami had quickly deduced that he was elsewhere at the moment, a possible trigger to the brunette's freshly developed attitude.

And finally, Yami was quite glad that Seto had decided to invite him here, regardless of the consequences that where sure to follow; they always did when the two were brought together. Watching someone else's pain was like the soothing balm to his own wounds, the one he'd been searching for relentlessly over the past week. A tremble shot through Yami again as the power of grief taunted him once more, but the young teen resisted it; instead, he stared with undivided passion at the sugar bowl in the middle of the table. 'What an odd place for a such an item.' He found it pathetic that it reminded him of Yugi so badly, someone sweet and pure stranded in the middle of somewhere blank, devoid, empty.

It was then that he noticed Seto was directly opposite him, the length of the entire table away. Yami's breath struggled momentarily as a strange feeling of sympathy surged into life, staring at the CEO's faraway grief: for a single moment on this evening, perhaps longer, the barriers of class and personality had been torn down by his simple seating choice, and they stood side by side on a bridge above raging torrents. Whether or not this new feeling, this new _equality_ would stay, was still a mystery.

Yami doubted it.

Seto stared back at the tri-haired teen - no, _boy_: he looked even smaller and strangely fragile with the dominating back of the chair rising behind him - with a carefully composed glare, irritated by the contrasting emotion on his face. Just minutes ago Yami had seemed lost, like someone trying to find their way home at the end of a long, miserable day, which is much like how the brunette felt himself. The CEO found the irritation sparked slightly at the thought of Yami, grieving and almost broken, was basking in some kind of happiness while Seto was stuck between reality and hell. But he couldn't allow that to interfere at the moment. He had a duty, and duty was work, thus it came before his own personal needs. Seto almost nodded to himself in agreement, ignoring the tiny nibble of something urgent in his mind - after all, what was more important than staying at the top of a highly polluted business ladder?

Yes, there truly were more important things in life - such as Mokuba. Many of them lay in limbo however, slowly breaking down and degrading, yet there was nothing Seto could do but continue on as he always had. From day one, he had resolved to this for his younger brother's sake; the CEO was positive that, for once, Yami would agree with him on the matter. But there was no need to state this aloud, not now. Later would do. 'Because later never arrives,' whispered the chiding voice from earlier outside, disappointment evident in the words.

At this point, Isono ushered through the door, his hands laden with several plates of food both foreign and detailed. Before either of the two could blink an eye, a multitude of delicacies sat before them on the gleaming oak table, steam rising in a tantalizing manner. Yami's hand automatically reached for the silverware beside it, and in seconds he was stabbing viciously at the meal, devouring it with an urgent hunger he had never encountered before. Unaware of the amused yet slightly worried eyes focused on his face, the younger teen continued his almost violent attack on carefully cooked potatoes, drawn from the obsessive assault by Seto's genuine laugh; it was like throwing a spanner into the works for the reaction it had.

"You eat like a pig," the brunette continued almost immediately. Against his will, Yami felt his face crumple downwards into a pout, influenced by the same conversation he and Yugi used to share at the Mutou dining table. And suddenly everything changed, as Yami was swallowed by a gaping pit of despair. Desperate fingers clutched at the edge of the Kaiba table, seeking a grip on some kind of pleasant reality before he was eaten alive by this gigantic monster, currently trying - and succeeding- to tear at his senses. The younger teen's eyes stung violently with unshed tears, suddenly afraid of letting them drop down his face, while everything was blurred into murky waterfall.

Seto's fork almost slipped from his hand at the sight of Yami displaying something that Mokuba could have excitedly called _extreme cuteness_. The brunette fondly compared the faces of the two, noting how they both seemed to scrunch their nose when making such an appealing face. Seconds later, however, that face suddenly shattered into a distressed one, as Yami let his own utensil fall to the carpet without being aware of doing so. In its place, the table became a stress ball for the young teen's fingers, trembling slightly as he seemed to fight back some kind of emotional onslaught. 'Tears?' the brunette questioned inwardly; and he was proven correct as Yami's eyes watered dangerously. What happened next was something neither of them thought possible.

The CEO stood from his chair loudly, startling the retreating Isono - who quickly left after receiving a burning glare from the tall teen -, before walking curtly down the length of the table. On his way, Seto deftly plucked the water jug from the middle, mentally noting that it was idiotic of the driver to place it there next to the sugar, where neither could reach it, and reached the end Yami was almost leaning against, depositing the now full glass before him. "Drink it," Seto commanded, willing to force the younger if must.

In response, Yami's head shot up like a rocket, eyes wide with surprise, eyelashes coveted by drops of salt water. The look he threw at the brunette was so vulnerable, so needing, that he almost collapsed to his knees on the spot, pulling the tri-haired teen into his arms to comfort him like an ailing child in search of a lost toy.

"Drink it," he repeated instead, struggling with himself against the decision. The CEO knew that was what Mokuba would have wanted; his older brother swooping up someone hurt, someone fragile, and helping them shut away the pain behind a crystal lock. But Seto could not just… suddenly change from what he used to be - and still is - in order to heal the strife of another, if only for a moment. The cracks were already there, started by the loss of the former tether to peace he once held, waiting for the perfect trigger to shoot him flying over the abyssal edge.

For when he fell, there would be no climbing back up to the stony mask of indifference Seto once held. And that was what frightened him the most.

"I'm fine," came the fierce answer which broke the brunette from his thoughts. Yami was staring hard at the taller, fighting back the near overwhelming urge to release the spongy dam. There was no way that he would allow Seto Kaiba, cold-hearted business leader - despite the obvious changes in his personality - to hold out a sympathetic hand. The brunette was struggling enough when life was supposedly normal, and by normal Seto was subconsciously referring to the daily chaos of handling a company, caring for a brother, and battling loneliness."You're obviously not," the CEO retorted angrily. He understood the need for pride, and the stubborn resistance is held when it came to grief, but enough was enough; Yami couldn't continue on like this! The mere mention of anything insulting was enough to send the younger spiralling out of control. Catching the tri-haired teen's face forming a nasty scowl, Seto quickly added, "At least stay for the night. You can avoid the trauma for a while." As the final word escaped his lips, the brunette was incredibly startled. 'Why did I just do that?' he questioned, unsure of his random generosity.

Yami too seemed like he'd been caught in the claws of surprise yet again. To hear something like that, coming from someone so distant and aloof; was nearly a miracle. If he had been living on his instincts - as he had, once upon a time - then the younger would have refused. Anything was better than staying with _Kaiba_.

Yet… times had changed. Times had changed _him_, too, and Yami was in desperate need of a quiet place - a quiet moment - for just a few minutes, hours, or evening. Just enough time to gather his thoughts and decide upon a plan of action in light of the current week's events. It pained him slightly to admit the truth, but he needed Seto much more than anyone could have possibly dreamed. Perhaps earlier, before the meal had arrived…

…Had it been a foreshadowing of the wildest possibilities in all their glory, breaking free from the snare of fantasy?

And it was with this thought, and the stunned expression on Seto's face, that Yami quietly uttered, in the rapidly fading sunset, "Yes."

* * *

_And that ends this chapter for the moment. I hope you enjoyed it._

_Next time, we finally have the intruders in the Kaiba mansion. What chaos will follow?Stay tuned._


	4. Chapter 2: Bump In The Night

_Thank goodness, I found time to update the series. Here's Chapter Two, and I hope you enjoy it. Please review and offer feedback._

* * *

Yami found his head was resting against a silky pillow after several hours wore by. In-between, his mind could briefly recall the CEO shaking him gently, rousing the younger teen from the dining table after he had fallen into a dreamless daze. The end of dinner had seen the pair stubbornly refuse to acknowledge each other at the opposite ends of the table; Seto chose to stare instead at his own reflection in the window, the blue eyes within pitying the brunette with a self-longing that seemed so hard to place. Yami himself had taken to watching the sugar bowl, waiting for it to move even an inch, or dare show a sign of life. As time had trickled forwards without his noticing, the former Pharaoh was soon waiting to see a pair of gentle amethyst eyes emerge from the bowl's wooden depths. Yugi's laughter was ringing softly in his ears, when the spell had been broken by Seto.

Thus now he was here: hiding away within a rarely used bedroom, where the quilts were stiff and the carpet valiantly refused to sink under his bare feet, strong in its solitude. Once Yami's back had slumped upon the mattress, and the light had been sliced out of the room by the flick of a switch, the teen knew that sleep was a baton in the relay he had not entered. Yet he still tried, if not for his sake, but for someone else's. How very dearly he would have loved to claim Yugi was the inspiration to his general welfare, a warm blanket for a frightened child – if his aibou was still here. Biting the inside of his cheek mercilessly, Yami tucked the thoughts away once more. 'Not here,' the tri-haired teen commanded to his sorrow. 'Not when you sleep under an unfamiliar roof.'

Sugoroku's face lit up within his mind, the worn face comforting the former Pharaoh. It drew his attention away from the ever-persistent grief, as Yami wondered how Yugi's grandfather must be feeling. The three of them had always been a family; from the moment that Sugoroku had discovered his grandson was possessed – as the young teen liked to put it – by a Pharaoh well beyond the gates to the afterlife, his arms were spread wide, welcoming the spirit.

Yami felt his lips curve upwards into the resemblance of a smile, if only a weak one. For perhaps a year since the duel to decide his fate as Yugi's mou hitori no boku, the trio had been affectionate; passionate; and above all, dedicated to each other.

These thoughts, however pleasant they may be in comforting the mind of a troubled soul, had no effect in gently teasing the young teen towards a much-needed evening in the pitch black void Yami associated with 'sleep'. Dreams were something that often evaded him, for reasons unknown; reasons he longingly wished were answered. His aibou would always speak so dynamically of merry evenings spent dreaming of his favourite duel, or perhaps a romantic serenade to beloved Anzu. Yami found that he even envied Yugi's ability to wake during the night in a sheen of cold sweat, clinging like to his skin like picks to ice.

Most of all, he reasoned with himself, the former Pharaoh wanted Yugi to grasp his hand beneath the cool sheets, and whisper into the air that nothing had changed: nothing would change. That Yami's aibou had not stepped into the bus on that horrific day.

'If only I could turn back time,' he mentally sighed, sharing the thoughts with the dark room through the raw pain in his eyes. 'I would have traded anything Bakura asked me for just for an hourglass. One single hourglass'. Sliding shut his tired lids, the crimson eyes danced agitatedly beneath, fighting and struggling with Yami against the idea of sleep. Not only that, but it was almost as if his brain was an angry beehive, buzzing with depressing thoughts along with despairing questions. Always stubborn, to the point where he had almost killed Kaiba in a duel for the sake of advancing towards Sugoroku's entrapped soul, the former Pharaoh continued to wrestle his conscious under a firm restraint.

Kaiba...

Yami's mind began to wander again, the buzzing fading away similar to a static radio. Of all the people in the world to offer a temporarily escape, he would not have suspected Seto Kaiba guilty of such a sacrifice. Initially, the younger teen had thought to protest without the agreement of the younger brother, until it again dawned on him that Mokuba had not been present since Yami had entered the mansion. The small yet irreplaceable fact somehow chilled his core, tugging at his senses in a way it should not have. Where was the lovable boy found clinging to Seto's coat, the excited brother running along after the brunette, happily boasting of future success and title of King of Games?

Wherever Mokuba was pleasantly hiding, it was no longer in this building. That much Yami knew, though this knowledge did not sit easy with him. Seto's distress was slowly unfurling before the former Pharaoh's closed eyes, and each addition left him aching in sympathy. Though their circumstances seemed to differ magnificently, the younger teen was still certain that without Mokuba, the CEO was losing his sense of reality, agonizingly slow. Even if Yami had never heard the full horrors of their childhood, it was readable through the moody features of Seto's face, whenever the brunette was not smirking or gloating.

Shaking his head gently, the tri-haired teen was politely surprised to notice that the buzzing had quelled itself. Sighing once again – yet this time aloud, announcing his presence to the darkness of the room – he settled down inside the quilts, burrowing into their depths like a caterpillar to its cocoon.

He could only wish that he awoke as a guiltless butterfly.

* * *

Elsewhere in the labyrinth that claimed itself as a mansion, beyond the reach of a discontented teen, a shadow twitched in the black that covered its halls. Unfurling itself from the wall as would a curtain from windows, its graceful form danced into the abyss, footsteps unheard. Careful and yet casual, it soon descended the grand stairs; slunk along the side of the banister; crept mournfully into the earlier vacated kitchen. Despite the room having been in use earlier by the clumsy 'chef', it was spotless to a fault. The marble surfaces seemed to echo the distant stars from the sliding doors at the other end of the room.

The shadow eased itself across the smooth stone floor, resisting the childish urge to slide like an ice skater on its slippery surface. Though they had been assured that the object required was located within this room, the seeker was decidedly unsure. The orders, however, had been absolute. The search would begin in this room.

Slinking down onto all fours, the cat-like shadow began its suspicious work.

* * *

Several hours into the night saw the re-surfacing of a ruby-eyed soul. Yami felt – as Yugi would have described – cranky from the sudden disturbance in his slumber, and could discover what would interrupt his dreamless rest. It had been the first time in a grief-bombarded week that the former Pharaoh had found solace from miserable exhaustion.

His eyes heavy, the young teen wet his lips quickly, the tongue dry enough itself. 'Perhaps a refreshment is in order,' Yami concluded logically. Following this decision, he slid his legs from the warm sheets gingerly, pausing as the colder air around the dark bedroom struck them. The former Pharaoh's footsteps echoed the ones made earlier; a barely audible heartbeat of the millions so distraught they struggle to sleep at night.

A quick yet clumsy journey was taken from the second floor straight to the ground, which was then followed by a forgetful fumbling through several chambers. Yami discovered several rooms he was sure that Seto had never even stepped into before on his search for the kitchen, such as an ambiguous broom closet, a dainty sitting room – smothered by the much larger, much more extravagant one across the entrance hall – and a private parlour; all three of which were coated with dust, now imprinted by his naive footsteps.

On his fourth attempt, Yami unearthed the kitchen from behind the staircase, where it sneakily lurked. By this time, his senses were beginning to wake up: yet they were still unaware of the invisible shadow within, hidden behind the cabinets across from the door he pushed open.

Bare skin slapped gently on the stone floor, the sound startling the former Pharaoh for a moment. It took him approximately two minutes of shifty gazing around the still kitchen to cause him to realise his own feet had generated the sound upon stepping away from plush carpets. The relief allowed Yami to chuckle nervously, superstition causing him to believe he was not alone.

The tri-haired teen found it almost hilarious.

In the dead of night, where his grief should linger ever the more painful, it rested. To Yami, the darkness was similar to the Shadow Games – it took the soul and thrust it forward into tender, painful moments, as if taunting the broken pieces. Yet in the daylight, if he focused intently on the loss of Yugi, the agony was so impulsive, so dreadful that the teen would gasp for air – air his aibou had once breathed – air he had once not. It would pulse like a beat of a heart, almost like an infected parasite.

When the sun was extinguished, the pain withered and temporarily died, even if only to be reborn from ashes like a Phoenix. The former Pharaoh liked to believe the reason behind such odd emotional logic was simple, almost childlike. Even grief needed time to rest, and recover: in order to strike back even stronger against Yami's attempt at a content facade.

Shaking his head to shake himself out of this startling revelation, Yami continued over to the sink. To his surprise, a glass was sitting innocently beside the silver taps, as if waiting for the young teen's arrival. Assuming that Seto had forgotten to place the glass away after their earlier confrontation at the dinner table, He refilled it carefully. Its icy cool contents watered his dry lips and tongue, but left him wider awake than before. After several more hurried gulps, the tri-haired teen observed the glass.

Yami remembered one peculiar time with Yugi in the game shop. The shorter of the pair had been drinking milk, served alongside a plate of cookies; one of his aibou's secret, and surprisingly well known fancies. Childish bickering had led to young King of Games calling to Sugoroku that his glass was only half full, and needed refilled. The former Pharaoh saw it as half empty. And he hadn't understood.

Looking back on that strange memory, he realised he still didn't understand. The glass had clearly been half empty, not half full. Yugi's logic, Yami mentally noted, was always strangely opposing to his own. So uplifting, rather than demoralizing. On a strong, almost magnetic impulse, the tri-haired teen longed to know the reasoning.

Only to realise he never would.

The glass almost slipped from his shaking fingers, but Yami wouldn't allow it. His grip tightened bravely. 'The sun rises and sets with my grief. Darkness is my only solitude.' Determined not to realise his previous revelation was in fact hypocritical, the young teen turned to set his half-drunk beverage on the counter until the morning. His first was quenched for now.

As he chose to swivel round, unfortunately, the shadow decided to step away from the cabinets. The former's eyes having adjusted to the lack of light, both humans noticed the other, and froze on the spot. The latter recovered first, much to Yami's delayed chagrin.

The glass flew from the former Pharaoh's hand as he himself was thrown up from the floor. Had he been born with wings, he would have been able to describe the experience similar to that of flying. Alas, Yami had not; his arms flailed as wildly as his legs, his throat involuntarily clenching shut. Remaining mute from the sudden shock and fright, He soon found himself hurled straight through the sliding doors and into the open. Only dimly aware of shattering glass, Yami realised with a jerk that he had been thrown head first into a large body of water – namely, Seto Kaiba's pool.

The young teen's vision temporarily darkened as he lost track of his senses.

* * *

Seto Kaiba jerked awake from Mokuba's desperate screams, to the screeches of yielding broken glass several floors below.

* * *

_As you most likely know, to be continued. What comes in the next installment? Well, either a rescue mission or a tragic death. I hope you enjoyed._


End file.
